


catpiss

by scoutshonour



Series: home is wherever i’m with you [6]
Category: Stranger Things (TV 2016)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Established Relationship, Fluff, Living Together, Multi, Sickfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-10
Updated: 2019-06-10
Packaged: 2020-04-24 08:01:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,306
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19169119
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scoutshonour/pseuds/scoutshonour
Summary: The one where it’s exams and everyone gets sick and the cat’s peeing everywhere and everything is terrible. But not as terrible when you've got your boyfriend and girlfriend snuggled up next to you.





	catpiss

**Author's Note:**

> as in the one I wrote about my current life.  
> wrote this really quickly in excitement for the game tonight (i'm from toronto and have never EVER thought about basketball voluntarily, but tonight i'm watching the game with some friends because the raptors could very well win tonight!!), so apologies for any mistakes.
> 
> WE’RE BACK TO THE COLLEGE IDIOTS IN LOVE. It’s been a minute! Let’s see how they’re doing.  
> 

Steve’s first sneeze is the first domino to fall.

They’re playing Scrabble on a Friday night, everyone wearing each other’s clothing. Jonathan took Steve’s sweater, a brand name he doesn’t recognize emblazoned on the front. Nancy sports Jonathan’s yellow sweater and a torn pair of Steve’s boxers. Steve’s shirtless and in a pair of sweatpants, and Jonathan has no proof to corroborate this, but he’s certain that Steve’s also wearing some of Nancy’s lingerie.

Steve’s halfway through convincing Nancy that his made-up word counts, because it could be a word and all words are made-up. Jonathan and Nancy listen, humouring him, until—

“Achoo!” Steve sneezes with his entire body, hair flopping as his head ducks rather dramatically.

Jonathan kind of narrows his eyes as Steve insists, “ _I’m fine.”_ It doesn’t match his red eyes that are starting to water and how he sneezes twice afterwards.

“Oh fuck no,” Nancy says, inching away from Steve.

Jonathan narrows his eyes at  _her_ instead, running his hand up and down Steve’s back because he’s not a sociopath. “Nancy,” he says, flabbergasted, “what—”

“No, that’s fair. Jonathan, get away from me.”

“—the fuck?”

He stares at them, convinced, not for the first time, that his partners are the most ridiculous people in the world. The hand on Steve’s back stills. “Is someone going to explain? Why is she so annoyed by your sneeze? Why does he want me to stop comforting him?”

Nancy wipes her grease-covered fingers with a napkin before tossing it into the empty pizza box by her feet. “He gets sick  _every time_ we write exams at the end of the year. I thought it would change out of high school, but I guess not. It’s super infectious. It always gets me sick. Plus, when he’s sick, he just—is more sick than you would think? A cold takes him right out.”

“It’s true,” Steve sniffles. He rubs the back of his neck, groaning. “I hate my fucking immune system.”

“Me too,” Nancy says softly. “Are you feeling okay?”

“I won’t be soon. Goddammit.”

Jonathan mulls this over as Nancy stands up, crosses the few feet it takes to get to the kitchen from their living room, and returns with a tissue box. She throws it into Steve’s lap.

“God, I love you so much.”

“Aw, babe, I love—“

Steve holds the tissue box to his heart. “Where would I be without you?”

Jonathan can’t help but laugh at Nancy’s face, her mouth forming an ‘O’ as she gasps.

“And what’re  _you_ laughing at?”

“Your face,” he says. “It’s beautiful.”

“Terrible save.” But Nancy’s smiling, tucking a short strand of brown hair behind her ear. “C’mere. You don’t wanna get sick.”

Jonathan really doesn’t want to. Steve keeps sneezing and a tear slides down his face, but even Steve elbows him, nearly pushing him over, so he sighs and inches away from him. He scoots until he’s on the other side of the board-game and sits next to Nancy. He laces their fingers and strokes the back of her hand with his thumb.

“How fucked do you think we’ll be?”

“Extremely,” she says.

“I’m doing good, thanks,” Steve says, right as he sneezes hard enough that he falls over, onto the board-game.

“Does this mean that I win?”

“Nance!” Steve groans.

.

.

.

Jonathan and Nancy keep a close eye on Steve over the next few days. It’s a bit difficult to, what with final essays and exams rapidly approaching, but they manage.

“Jonathan,” Steve says, “this is the third bowl of soup you’ve made me.”

“I’m glad you can count.”

Steve flips Jonathan off, but softens as he looks down at the chicken soup. “Sit with me, at least. Five feet away, though.”

So Jonathan grabs a chair from the dining table and plops it a few feet away. Nancy doesn’t even blink at this arrangement when she walks in with a bottle of cough syrup.

“He’s  _coughing_ now?”

“Yup.” Nancy grimaces as she slides the cough syrup across the dining room table. She stares at Steve, mouth tugging into a frown, before muttering, “Fuck it,” and walking until she’s next to him.

Steve buries his face into her stomach as she cards her fingers through his hair, murmuring, “Poor baby. Just a few more days. You can do it.”

Jonathan stands from the chair and is about to sprint the agonizing five feet to be with them, until the unthinkable happens.

Nancy sneezes.

“Oh no. I  _infected_ you!” Steve cries out, his voice cracking horribly.

She sneezes again into her elbow, but holds a hand out to Jonathan, hitting him in the chest and launching him into the wall. “No! You are  _not_ getting sick too.”

Jonathan frowns. “But, Nancy, just let me—”

“No, she’s right,” Steve says, rubbing his red nose. “Take the couch tonight? Trust me, it’s not worth it to get sick.”

Jonathan’s heart pangs. He doesn’t want to—he wants to make them more soup, maybe some tea, wrap them up into bed, and hold them. But their eyes are pleading and he has two assignments and an essay to complete within the week.

He sighs. Shoulders slumping, he lets out a defeated and resigned breath. “Fine.”

.

.

.

He only lasts, like, five hours.

At eleven, two hours after Nancy and Steve crawled into bed and called it an early night, he winces as he tiptoes into their room. “Hey,” he says, already knowing that neither have fallen asleep. “Is there anything you need?”

“A stronger body,” Nancy scowls. Her sickness came and hit her fast. Her voice is raw, cheeks pinker than he’s ever seen. She waves a hand out and takes a few seconds to turn the lamp on.

Steve presses a kiss to Nancy’s forehead and then rests his cheek against the top of her head. “An immune system that doesn’t fucking hate me.”

Jonathan walks the foot of their bed, softening at the sight of them, curved into each other. He bounces on the balls of his feet. “Can I come in?”

“Jonathan ...” Steve trails off. “You’re going to get sick.”

“I have a stronger immune system than you.”

“ _Hey.”_

”It’s not my fault if you’re offended by that.” Jonathan smiles. His breath catches as Nancy sniffs and rubs at her eyes. “Please? If I get sick, I get sick. Whatever.”

“Then we’re all disasters,” Nancy says, but her mouth keeps twitching into a smile.

“We already are.” Jonathan raises an eyebrow. “No one’s answered me yet.” His eyes trail over the bed and he suddenly notices their cat curled up in Nancy’s arms. “And Catniss gets to join you guys.”

Catniss purrs at the sound of her name. She jumps out of Nancy’s grasp, and circles Steve and Nancy’s feet before settling by the edge of the bed. She stares at Jonathan expectantly.

“Well if she wants you in, who am I to stop you,” Nancy says teasingly. She looks at Jonathan, her blue eyes sparkling. “Okay. Come in.”

The relief he feels at crawling into bed and holding them—at soothing the back of Steve’s head and wrapping an arm around Nancy’s waist is everything. In between them, Catniss slides underneath the thick comforter and settles on his stomach.

“It’ll be fine,” he coos. “I love you.”

“We know.” Steve smiles weakly, pressing a kiss to Jonathan’s jaw. “You’re going to get  _so_  sick.”

“We’ll take care of you too,” Nancy murmurs. “Promise. As best as we can. I’m more, hm, how do I say this—“

Steve rolls his head to grin lazily at Nancy. “More competent than me when you’re sick?”

“I wouldn’t say it like  _that ...”_ She laughs. “I want to kiss you. Would that get us sicker?”

“This isn’t like a cystic fibrosis thing,” Steve says. “I think. Is it? Can I Google it first?”

“You left your phone in the kitchen,” Jonathan reminds him. “Well, how much sicker can you get when everyone you’re living with is already sick?”

“Why did you say it like  _that?”_ Nancy makes a face, swinging a leg over Jonathan’s. “As if we’re just roommates.”

“Plot-twist, he’s just with us to save money on rent,” Steve says with an exaggerated gasp. He nuzzles Jonathan’s neck and reaches over him to rest his hand on Nancy’s waist.

Jonathan laughs again, cheeks starting to turn sore. “You’ve caught me. I befriended you, pretended to be hopelessly in love with you, and made an over-the-top gesture to show you my love.” He thinks of the pictures he had put up the year before; memories from their months of friendship and months of dating, pictures lined up to spell the words  _I love you._

“It was  _not_ over-the-top!” Nancy huffs. “It was romantic.”

Jonathan tries not to wince at her voice as it scratches, already so different. “It was  _meant_ to be. Hence the plan.”

She rolls her eyes. “You’re a good actor then.”

“Thank—“ A violent sneeze rips through his words. “Oh God.”

_It’s happening._

.

.

.

They wake up in a few hours, unable to sleep, but Jonathan’s the first to get up. He’s not doing so bad—it aches to swallow, but his voice hasn’t changed, and he’s coughing occasionally rather than the constant and loud sneezes that plague Nancy and Steve.

So he’s the first to wake up not because he’s sicker, but because he’s covered in cat urine.

“Catniss,” he groans, half-awake, half-hating-being-alive. “I thought you loved me.”

“I  _do_ love you.”

For a second, Jonathan’s convinced he’s landed in a shitty kids show where the family cat starts talking and hijinks ensue. But as he blinks, he realizes it’s just Steve, speaking into Nancy’s shoulder. Jonathan’s somehow ended up on Nancy’s other side, his leg caught underneath hers.

Jonathan melts at that. “Catniss peed on me.”

“Catniss? More like—“

“Don’t do it. Please, don’t.”

“ _Catpiss!”_

Nancy stirs, peeling her hair slick with her own drool off of her face. “Are you really saying Catpiss at—at three in the fucking morning?”

Jonathan glares at Steve. “You woke Nancy up.”

“You woke  _me_ up!”

“Jonathan, what the fuck,” Nancy groans into the pillow.

“Catpiss peed on me.”

“Did you just call her Catpiss?” She asks, turning over and rubbing her eyes.

“What—goddammit, Steve!”

“Catpiss,” Steve sings to the tune of the Spider-Man theme song. “ _Catpiss._ Does whatever a cat named Catpiss does. If she pees, Jonathan cries—“

“What’re you doing,” Jonathan grumbles, rolling out of bed to change clothes. “Why are you doing this to us?”

“You  _chose_ me. You’re stuck with me. That’s your fault, not mine.”

Nancy turns over, spooning Steve. Jonathan thinks half of why she does it is to shut Steve up, but it works, Steve letting out a pleased noise as he laces his fingers with the hand Nancy has around his waist. “Is Catniss alright?” She asks.

“I’m fine, thanks for—”

“Jonathan. I know you can handle cat pee.”

“I can handle it, but that doesn’t mean—”

“Oh my God, are  _you okay?”_

“I’m fine,” he says, chuckling. “Just gonna shower. Catniss should be alright. This is probably a one-off thing, anyway.”

.

.

.

It’s not, because of  _course_ it isn’t. She pees everywhere for the next three days; on their carpeted floor, their sofa, their bed. Nancy prints her final essay for one of her law classes, Jonathan can’t remember which, and after walking away for a few minutes to make herself a cup of tea, she returns to find Catniss jumping off of the counter, leaving a trail of yellow behind.

“You  _asshole!”_ Nancy yells.

“What did I do?” Steve shouts from the bathroom.

“Not you, the cat!”

Jonathan, in the bathroom, with zero idea of what they were talking about until they’ll sit for dinner an hour later, considers asking. But he sighs and goes back to editing his essay.

“We need to take her to the vet, right? She’s peeing way more than usual.” Nancy slurps from her container of soup, licking her upper lip once she’s set the container onto the table.

Steve snorts. “Is that a good idea considering we’re  _all_ sick? I can ask Tommy to.”

“Yeah, okay. I just. Everything is such a mess.” She rubs her hand across her face, closing her eyes.

“Exams will be over soon. We’ll get through it,” Jonathan says, optimistic. “Finish your soup.”

“Okay,  _dad.”_ Steve twirls his spoon in his container, wrinkling his nose slightly before shoving a spoonful into his mouth.

“Why are you ...” He gestures vaguely to Steve, arching an eyebrow and reminding himself that Steve’s irritation only stems from his awful cold. “Like this?”

Nancy smiles dryly, kicking Jonathan from underneath the table. “He’s annoyed that you aren’t as sick as we are. You cough. Like. Once a day.”

“My voice is still different,” he retorts, semi-amused. He crumples his empty container, feels the styrofoam break in his hands. “Does it help that I’ve been peed on by Catniss three times?”

“Am I a terrible boyfriend if I say yes?”

“You’re a terrible boyfriend for continuing to sing that  _stupid, stupid_ song,” Nancy says.

“What’s that? You want to hear the song?”

“Nancy,” Jonathan hisses, “what did you  _do?”_

 _“Catpiss, Catpiss, does whatever a_ —”

.

.

.

Nothing seems to be wrong with Catpiss—er, Catniss—but the vet had suggested that if another three days pass and she’s still peeing excessively, to bring her back and they’ll run more tests.

“Do you have a UTI?” Steve coos, stroking Catniss’ belly as she lays in his lap. “What do you do when we’re sleeping?”

“Steve, that’s her business, leave her alone.” Nancy sinks into the sofa on Steve’s right, reaching out to pet Catniss.

Jonathan watches them, eyes twinkling with fondness as he reaches blindly for the coffee table to grab another tissue. “She’s going to pee on me again. Watch.”

“That’s a sign of affection, probably. We’re totally jealous that she isn’t peeing on us.”

Nancy stops petting Catniss to send Steve a dumbfounded look. “Are we, though?”

Jonathan heaves out a sigh. He’s finished one assignment. but no one is getting any better. They’re five days in now, and he’s doing okay, significantly better than them, able to leave the apartment and go to class. Steve’s definitely the worst. His voice has changed the most, his appetite is completely gone, and he cries a couple times everyday because of how badly everything stings. Nancy is almost as bad. She tries to hide it, to “suck it up” as she says it herself, but her sneezes are deafening and she can’t speak for at least thirty seconds afterwards due to a sneezing fit that feels like it lasts thirty years instead.

It’s terrible. He hates seeing them in pain, uncomfortable and unable to do much except bear it. He has to remind himself constantly that it’ll pass. It’ll be over soon.

.

.

.

“I can’t study, my ears are ringing!”

“So your solution is to scream so  _all_ of our ears are ringing?”

Jonathan stumbles out of his bedroom, weary and sniffling, placing a hand on his hip as he eyes Nancy and Steve, sitting on the sofa, knees together, and poring over notes. They both have an exam tomorrow, while Jonathan doesn’t. He’s not finished yet, but there’s no way he’s studying for his next exam now, not after his one from this morning absolutely crushed him and what little confidence he  _thought_ he had.

“I understand that you’re stressed, but like. Please?”

They look apologetic. “Sorry,” Nancy says. “I just—”

“I’ll make tea. Chamomile?”

“I love you,” she replies instead, and Jonathan glows.

He makes everyone a cup of tea and carefully brings it over. “Anyone want help studying?”

“Go sleep instead,” Steve says through a yawn. “We’ll live.”

“Not unless this cold takes us down first,” Nancy grumbles, slamming her textbook shut.

Steve gets this fond look in his eyes whenever Nancy does something semi-violent, like throw something or threaten him. It shines brighter than usual in his eyes. He bends his head to kiss her cheek, palming her other cheek using the hand wrapped around her shoulder. “I love you.”

Nancy’s nose scrunches out of confusion, but she says easily, “I love you too.”

And Jonathan—well, he just can’t stop grinning.

“Sit with us for a minute,” Nancy suggests, looking at Jonathan softly. “Get your phone or a book or something. Just. C’mere.”

Jonathan grabs a book that Nancy had recommended; he’s reached the novel’s climax, but it’s difficult to focus when Nancy absentmindedly hums along to a song and Steve’s got his arm wrapped around Jonathan’s shoulder. He falls asleep without meaning to. When he wakes up, it’s two in the morning and he’s in their bed, Nancy spooning him from behind and Steve snoring from behind her.

He’s covered in Catniss’ urine, like expected, but he’s too tired and too pleased to get up and change, falling back asleep.

.

.

.

The day after that, they curl up in bed together, a mess of limbs and bones. Jonathan can’t tell whose arm is whose, and the thought fills him with warmth.

“How was everyone’s day?” He asks, tracing shapes on Nancy’s forearm.

“My prof kept glaring at me while I sneezed during the exam,” she deadpans. “I left him a shitty review on Rate My Teacher. I hope he loses his wallet today.”

“Fuck him,” Steve says. “Meanwhile, I managed to hold my coughs in during the exam, but like, burst into tears afterwards because of it. A group of girls thought I was crying about the exam and they joined me, but it was honestly nice? Like. Cathartic. Very healing. We got drinks afterwards.”

“You  _drank_ while you were sick?” Nancy raises her head from Jonathan’s chest to laugh incredulously at Steve.

“I was very emotional. I can’t be held accountable for my actions, Nance.”

“I think I’m doing better,” Jonathan says, smiling into Steve’s hair. “My voice isn’t as bad.”

“I noticed,” Nancy says. “You sound much better. My throat is getting better.”

“I only cried once today,” Steve chimes in.

Progress, right?

.

.

.

They finish exams shortly and after that, everything falls into place. Catpiss—oh, goddammit, Steve— _Catniss_ is the first to let up. She stops peeing as much and in places other than her litter box. Jonathan’s next; his coughing stops and his voice turns back to normal, followed by Nancy whose throat clears up almost instantaneously after Jonathan, and Steve, whose sneezing bouts take a few days longer to get rid of.

But they’re good. Finally.

They say a big fuck you to exams and their sickness and Catniss’ weird pee thing by playing another game of Scrabble and ordering takeout. It’s pho from the Vietnamese corner around the block, to be safe.

Steve is back to arguing about the validity of his invalid word. Somehow, he managed to get the same word from last time.

“If you keep arguing about your word—”

“AHA! So you agree, Nance? It’s a word?”

“Ob-fucking-jection, that does not count—”

“You said it yourself, it’s a word!”

Nancy scowls.  “I will spend the entire night fighting you on this.”

Steve drops a kiss against her eyelid. “Let’s do this.”

Nancy starts shouting words so quickly that Jonathan can’t keep up. At one point, Steve opens his mouth to interrupt her, but she raises her finger and speaks even louder. He shuts his mouth pointedly.

They do this all while holding hands.

Jonathan watches them with a growing smile right as Catniss plops into his lap and licks his knee. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Shut up, you love us,” Nancy says without any heat before rising on her knees, her face an inch away from Steve’s.

“And you love this,” Steve adds.

“I do,” Jonathan says, dazed and in love and warm all over. “I really do.”

**Author's Note:**

> you know those ones where you write instead of doing schoolwork? aka most of my one-shots under 10k. 
> 
> inspired by me sneezing and coughing but needing to go to school to complete a group project worth 10%, due by the end of the period. luv education. truly.
> 
> say hi on tumblr! i'm at trulyalpha. kudos/comments are appreciated.


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